The Farmer's Daughter
by Pookieh
Summary: It was Peeta Mellark's final summer before starting college and instead of spending it working in his father's bakery, he decides he needs a change. He gets hired as a farmhand on the Everdeen family farm, and just when he thinks the early summer heat can't get much hotter, he catches a glimpse of the farmer's daughter. Modern Day Everlark AU. Cover Art by Loving-Mellark.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** This fic is rated 'M' language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games (although I wish I did).

* * *

_Early June…_

Peeta glanced down at the rumpled up piece of paper in his hand, squinting his eyes in an attempt to decipher the row of numbers now smudged by his fingers. _With handwriting like this, I should be a doctor_, he thought to himself as he frowned at his own chicken-scratch excuse for writing. If only his phone got reception this far out of the city, he wouldn't be in this predicament.

According to Google Maps, the Everdeen farm was 3.4 miles west of County Line 12, but according to his odometer, he was already 6 miles in with still no sign of a homestead. Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by a sea of green. Short stalks with long leaves fluttered in the breeze, forming tight rows that were interrupted by random outcrops of trees here and there. Any other day and this would have been an idyllic moment, one he'd probably consider capturing in his sketchbook. But not today. Not when he had somewhere to be.

He scratched at his day-old stubble and with a long, drawn out sigh, started up his car again. A quick check in the rearview mirror confirmed there was no one coming up behind him (not that he'd seen another soul in sight over the past half hour), so with a tight swivel of the steering wheel, he turned his car around and headed back down the dusty country road.

Not a minute later, something caught his eye. It was a small break in the fields that could easily have been missed, but as he slowed to take a better look, it appeared to be a narrow dirt driveway. A faded sign half-hidden by the overgrowth of grass thankfully matched the numbers he was sure were scribbled on the paper in his lap, and for the first time that day, his spirits lifted.

After turning down the path, a small group of buildings popped out over the horizon, along with a tiny spark of hope that he was indeed headed towards some hint of civilization. Whether it was the Everdeen farm or not, at least he could stop and ask for directions.

If it had been any other summer, Peeta would have spent it at home, working at his dad's bakery like his brothers before him. But not this year. This year required a change. Being his last summer before starting college, this was his final chance to try something new. Thankfully his dad had been all for the idea and suggested that if he really wanted to try something different, something that would really leave a lasting impression on him and challenge him in new ways, he said to look for something outside the city. This eventually led to the idea of working as a farmhand on one of the numerous farms located on the outskirts of the city. Three inquires and one phone call later, Peeta had landed himself a summer position at the Everdeen farm, one of the smaller family farms devoted primarily to the production of grains.

When the buildings in front of him no longer resembled miniatures, he could make out what he assumed to be a barn, a smaller storage shed of some sort, and a white two-story house complete with a quintessential wraparound porch and dark green shutters. All it needed were two rocking chairs and a coon hound fast asleep on the steps and it'd be scene straight out of a Wilson Rawls novel.

A rusty red pickup truck loomed into view and he spotted a man unloading wooden crates out of the truck bed along with a young girl perched on the tailgate. When he finally came to a stop a little ways from the house, Peeta killed the engine and took a deep breath, hoping this was the right place.

"Howdy," the man greeted with a hearty smile.

"Hello," Peeta answered, shutting the car door behind him. He wiped his palms down the front of his jeans before offering an outstretched hand to the man. "I'm Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Is this the Everdeen farm?"

"It sure is, glad to see you made it!" The man's easy smile set Peeta's restless nerves at ease. "I'm Mr. Everdeen, but you can call me Jack, most everyone does around here."

At first glance, Mr. Everdeen appeared to be in his early forties. Not a large man, but not weak-looking by any means. His tanned skin was witness to long days spent in the sun and tips of dark brown hair curled out from under a weathered blue baseball cap.

A tiny giggle from the tailgate caused Peeta to turn his attention to the young girl who was swinging her legs carelessly through the air.

"Well," Mr. Everdeen continued, "_almost_ everyone calls me that. To this little one though, I go by the likes of 'Dad'." He scrunched his face up and stuck out his tongue at the girl. "This would be Primrose, my youngest."

"But you can call me Prim," the girl chimed in before returning the silly face in the direction of her dad. "Most everyone does around here," she added in a low voice, blatantly mocking him.

Peeta couldn't help but chuckle at the free and easy banter between father and daughter. Oddly though, they looked nothing alike. With Prim's wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion, she was more likely to pass off as his own sister than Mr. Everdeen's offspring.

The man let out a hearty laugh before turning back to Peeta. "I hope the place wasn't too hard to find?"

"Nah, not too hard," he answered. _Major understatement._

"Well that's good to hear. For years I've been meaning to put up a proper sign for the place, but, uh, it's still pretty low on the priority list for the time being." Mr. Everdeen finished unloading the last crate from the truck and gently swatted at his daughter. She promptly hopped off and shut the tailgate behind her. Her dad reached down to tweak the end of her nose and said, "You better get a move on and help your Mama. She'll be expecting some help with supper."

"Yes, sir," Prim answered with a salute before scurrying up the front steps and disappearing into the house.

Mr. Everdeen rocked back on his heels and swiveled around to face Peeta. "Well, first things first, let me help you with your bags and we'll get you all squared away."

"That's alright, I can manage." Peeta retreated back to his car to fetch his duffle bag and backpack from the trunk and lifted them into the air. "I packed light."

He didn't think it made any sense to pack much, just a few pairs of jeans, a couple shorts, and a bunch of t-shirts he didn't mind getting wrecked considering the nature of the manual labor he was expecting. There was no sense in bringing his laptop or any other electronic device; if he was going to get the full country living experience, he was going to do it right. Besides a few framed family photos, the only other pieces of his life from the city he thought to bring were his sketchpad, a pack of pencils, and charcoals.

"So, we've put you up in the apartment over the tool shed," Mr. Everdeen said as he motioned to Peeta to follow him towards a small building across from the house. "I hope you don't mind, my wife thought a young guy like you'd appreciate the privacy up there. There's a washroom but you'll take your meals with us at the main house. Feel free to make use of the family room whenever you like, there's a television and phone for when you'd like to keep in touch with your folks."

The tool shed had a faint musty smell, not exactly offensive, but it made Peeta's nose wrinkle until he got used to the odor. A set of stairs towards the back led up to a second floor and the old boards creaked loudly as they made their ascent. Well, at least he'd have fair warning whenever someone was coming up. When they reached the second floor, Peeta was secretly relieved at the sight of his summer home. The room was quaint but clean, outfitted with a comfy looking bed, nightstand, and desk. It was definitely nothing to grumble about, and as Mr. Everdeen said, it was his own space.

After setting his bags down on the bed, Peeta immediately made his way over to the window and propped it open.

"Oh, uh, one other thing," Mr. Everdeen said as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "There's no AC up here so you're right to make use of the window. But there's a fan in the closet there if you need it." He walked over to the worn mahogany armoire and retrieved an ancient oscillating fan that he placed on the desk. "Now, how 'bout a tour of the place?"

During the short 15-minute trip in the passenger seat of the truck, Peeta tried his best to commit to memory a mental map of the property in relation to all the buildings. The main structures included the farmhouse, the tool shed where he'd be staying, and a barn that housed a few dozen chickens, a couple cows, and a goat (which Mr. Everdeen made sure to mention was Prim's pride and joy). The workable land was made up of a hundred acres of cash grain fields, corn or soybeans depending on the year, and a small creek ran along the west side of the property, separating it from the neighboring farm.

For the majority of the ride Peeta remained quiet, listening tentatively to his new boss and trying to get a feel for his personality. Finally Mr. Everdeen turned to him and asked, "So, any questions?"

"Just one," Peeta answered as he turned his face Mr. Everdeen. "So what exactly will I be doing around here?"

Mr. Everdeen chuckled. "Anything and everything. But by the looks of it, seems like you have a good head on your shoulders and know a thing or two about pulling your own weight."

Peeta squared his shoulders in response, glad his stocky stature didn't go unnoticed. "I'm used to hard work, if that's what you mean. My father owns a bakery but it's not all cakes and bread; I'm used to hauling around a hundred pound bags of flour. Oh, and I was on the wrestling team in high school."

"Well, I wouldn't be too worried then, nothing you can't handle I'm sure. We'll start you out with helping around the barn…mucking out the stalls, hauling hay, and whatnot. Then we'll get you out in the fields and up on the ol' tractor. When you're not busy with that, there's always something around that needs fixin'. The life of a farmer—" he paused and drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel before continuing, "—not everyone's cut out for it."

Peeta couldn't help but take that as a challenge. He'd never entered into anything half-heartedly and he wasn't about to start now. It was all in with both feet or not at all. Despite the long hours and back-breaking work he knew was in store for him, the property was beautiful and he'd already taken note of over a dozen spots he'd like to capture on paper during his free time. That is, if he ever got any.

When the farmhouse finally came back into view, the sun had already started it's decent over the horizon, but something was different. There was another truck parked in the driveway that hadn't been there when they left.

"That'll be my first born, Katniss. She'd be about your age I reckon. How old are you anyway, son?"

"I turned nineteen this past fall."

"Ain't that a coincidence! Katniss turned nineteen not long ago, too." Peeta nodded, relieved that there would be someone else his age around here to hang around with. "Well, how about we start you off in the barn tomorrow morning and Katniss can help show you the ropes. Sound like a plan?"

"Sounds fine to me."

"Good. Now, supper's not gonna get any warmer, what'd you say we go meet the rest of the family?"

He followed Mr. Everdeen through a side entrance to the house and as he toed off his shoes in the foyer, the distinct sound of female voices echoed down the hall. It was quickly followed by the unmistakable smell of fried chicken and something he was quite certain was drowning in butter. He inhaled deeply and his mouth began to water in anticipation.

After the death of his mother over five years ago, home cooked meals around the table were a rare event for a single dad with three teenaged boys. Most nights were spent around the television, watching the game with plates balanced on their laps. Although his dad was a baker, and a damn good one at that, he quickly learned the title wasn't the equivalent to a cook.

Peeta followed Mr. Everdeen into the mudroom to wash up, taking note of the layout of the house. Numerous framed photographs that ranged from black and white to sepia tone to color covered the walls of the hallway that led to what he expected to be the dining room. The place had a warm, homey feel. It was definitely well-lived in, which made leaving his own home that much easier.

The voices down the hall grew louder with each step and he wasn't sure why, but his pulse quickened in anticipation, unsure of what he was about to walk into. However, nothing could have prepared him for his first glimpse of the oldest Everdeen daughter.

The first things he noticed were her eyes, which caught his the moment he entered the room, stopping him dead in his tracks. She stared at him for a moment before her gaze slowly drifted down his body, and then back up again to his face. Peeta swallowed thickly under the scrutiny. It wasn't a suggestive look, as if she was checking him out, but rather the way an opponent sizes up the competition. And he would know, especially from his years of competitive wrestling.

A heavy hand on his shoulder broke him from her trance. "Have a seat, son."

Mr. Everdeen gestured to the empty chair to his right, straight across from the grey-eyed beauty who was seated to his left. "Peeta, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Lily," he said, nodding towards the woman who sat opposite him at the other end of the table. She smiled back at him warmly and bowed her head. "And this here is Katniss." He reached over and patted the back of his daughter's hand, which Peeta noticed was clenched tightly around her fork.

"Nice to meet you," he said with a nod to Mrs. Everdeen before turning back to face Katniss. He lean in over the table and offered her both a polite smile and his hand, but all he received in return was a frown. _Well, this is going to be a long summer,_ he thought to himself as he took his seat and draped his napkin across his lap.

Peeta thought it best to sit back and observe the first night in order to get a sense of the family dynamics before attempting to ease himself into their everyday lives. Overall, the family was pleasant and welcoming, with both Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen taking the time to ask him the usual barrage of questions about his family, childhood, and interests. Even Prim chimed in every once in awhile, although her curiosities all seemed to revolve around his dad's bakery and all the different flavors of cakes and cupcakes they specialized in.

For the most part, the rest of dinner passed in amiable conversation and the Everdeens seemed genuinely happy of his presence. Although they showed great interest in getting to know him, there still wasn't a hint of interest from the indifferent pair of steel grey eyes across the table.

Mrs. Everdeen didn't disappoint with dinner, and he soon found himself pleasantly full. So he was both surprised and worried when she presented a chocolate cake for dessert, unsure if it would be rude to turn down a slice his first night there. Although he wasn't a stranger to sugar confections, the dessert course wasn't usually a part of his family dinners at home. As the cake was cut, the topic of conversation somehow turned to his plans for the future.

"So, Peeta, smart guy like you, I'm assuming you've made the decision to pursue a higher level of education?" Mr. Everdeen asked after cleaning off a forkful of cake.

The clatter of another fork as it hit the table across from him caused his attention to shift to Katniss momentarily. The visible change in her demeanor was unmistakable, from her stiffened appearance to her lips that almost disappeared into a tight line. He hesitated for a few seconds, waiting for some sort of reaction based on the girl's strange behavior, but she remained silent and he eventually turned back to Mr. Everdeen to answer his question.

"Yes, sir, I was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship to State, so of course I couldn't turn it down," he said proudly, recalling the relief he felt when he'd received his acceptance letter. Although his dad's bakery did well enough and he'd been saving up for college for years, the amount of disposable income in the Mellark household still always seemed to be on the low side, no thanks to the debt his late mother had left them with after her passing. It wasn't until a year after the funeral that he'd learned the full extent of his mother's struggle with alcohol, and years later, he was still finding random bottles scattered throughout the house and yard in the most bizarre places.

Peeta shook his head, not wanting to go down that road, especially after finally coming to peace with it.

"Well that's wonderful!" Mrs. Everdeen beamed. "Katniss was accepted to State as well, but she hasn't quite made a decision yet."

"Mama!" Katniss shouted, her sudden outburst causing Peeta to smear a bit of icing on the corner of his mouth as he almost missed his bite of cake. He hastily wiped it away before she continued. "Ugh! We've been through this a hundred times already, I'm not going!"

Peeta sunk slowly back into his chair, trying not to direct any attention his way and feeling suddenly out of place for being caught in the middle of what was obviously a private family matter.

"Katniss!" Mr. Everdeen's eyes narrowed as he shook the end of his fork in his daughter's direction. "You do _not_ talk to your mother in that tone, young lady, you hear me?"

With a huff, Katniss crossed her arms over her chest and fell back against her chair with a loud thump. "Whatever," she mumbled under her breath.

Mr. Everdeen dropped his utensil and glared at Katniss. "Is this how you act in front of our guest?"

"He's not a guest," she said with jut of her chin in his direction. "He's the hired help."

"That is enough! He is our guest so long as he's here and you'll treat him as such, are we clear?"

Katniss stared angrily back at her father, her features defiant yet radiant with a hint of a fire behind her eyes. "Crystal," she said, pushing away from the table and abandoning her dessert. "Excuse me. I've seemed to have lost my appetite." And with as much grace as a raging bull, she stomped out of the dining room. Her footsteps echoed down the hall until they were finally silenced by the slamming of a door.

Mr. Everdeen shook his head in obvious disappointment of his eldest daughter's lack of manners and finally turned to Peeta, offering him an apologetic shrug. Peeta straightened up in his chair, swallowing the lump of cake that seemed to be stuck in his throat, and smiled back nervously.

It was Prim's sweet voice that eventually broke the uncomfortable silence. "Don't worry, Peeta, just your typical, every day dinner at the Everdeen residence." Her toothy grin was somewhat reassuring but he could feel his cheeks flush. The whole thing was embarrassing to witness and, if he was being honest, unintentionally being the segue to the taboo topic of college was unbelievably awkward.

With a deep breath, he opted for humor in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "Trust me, I've spent the last five years in a house full of men, so I'd say this was pretty tame in comparison." He grinned at Mrs. Everdeen who eventually smiled back, relief washing over her face.

"Well, no use beating around the bush," Mr. Everdeen said after brushing the crumbs off his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "You see, Peeta, this year's the first I've ever inquired for some help around here. I'm not getting any younger. Katniss, however, is under the impression that she can pick up the slack all on her own. Now don't get me wrong, the girl's got more determination and heart than any man out there, but when it comes to the physical nature of some parts of the job, well…" He gestured into the air but didn't need to elaborate.

During the short time he'd spent in the presence of Katniss, Peeta had quickly gathered that she was a feisty one and not to be reckoned with, but the truth of the matter was, her petite stature meant there were limitations to her physical capabilities.

"So, to put it plainly, she doesn't think I need to be here," Peeta finished, quite certain he didn't need any further explanation.

"Right you are." Mr. Everdeen grinned. "See, I knew you were a smart one."

Peeta just smiled and offered a shrug before polishing off the piece of cake still sitting on his plate. After a first impression like that, tomorrow was going to be quite the challenge. But he was always up for a challenge. And Katniss Everdeen had already proven to be a challenge that he was more than happy to take on.

* * *

Bright and early the next morning after a surprisingly restful sleep, Peeta splashed a handful of cold water onto his face and smiled at his reflection in the mirror. It was officially his first day of work and despite the rocky start the evening before, he was feeling hopeful. There was a spring in his step as he puttered about the room, humming off-tune as he dug through his duffle bag in search of his favorite pair of jeans and a t-shirt. If his first day was to be spent in the barn tagging along after Katniss, he wanted to be comfortable and appear as non-threatening as possible in the hopes of smoothing things over and rectifying their less than stellar initial introduction.

By the time he'd made his way over to the farmhouse for breakfast, he was already running later than he'd hoped, no thanks to his uncontrollable curls that somehow defied gravity each morning. He was seriously regretting not shaving his head for the summer, but per usual, it was nothing his trusty old ball cap couldn't hide.

He was greeted at the table by Prim's welcoming smile and to no surprise, a scowl from Katniss. A good night's sleep obviously hadn't done anything to improve her mood, but too bad for her, the way her nose crinkled up at the corners was anything but menacing.

"You're late." Katniss's voice was as flat as the farmland that surrounded them.

"Good morning to you, too," he answered politely; trying to hide his surprise that she'd at least acknowledged him as he took a seat across from her.

From the kitchen he heard the clinking of dishes, and not a moment later Mrs. Everdeen entered the dining room balancing a tray in one hand a coffee pot in the other. "Oh! Good morning, Peeta! How'd you sleep? It wasn't too hot for you up there in that room, was it? I sure hope Jack showed you where the fan is."

"I slept just fine, Ma'am, thank you. And yes, he did."

"Would you like some coffee?" She motioned with the pot to the empty mug in front of him.

"Um, no thank you, I'm not much of a coffee drinker. Would you by any chance happen to have any tea?"

"Of course, of course! What kind would you like?" She placed the tray of steaming hot pancakes in the center of the table and wiped her hands on the front of her apron.

"I'll take whatever you have. I'm not picky when it comes to tea."

With that, the woman hurried back into the kitchen with her apron strings trailing out behind her. He'd come to the conclusion early on that Mrs. Everdeen was the type of woman who was eager to please, but he found himself wondering how much of the trait was passed on to her eldest daughter. Oddly enough, he had a peculiar urge to find out.

_Why do I even care?_

Perhaps it was the fact that others generally liked him and that most felt at ease in his presence. He wasn't used to people disliking him for reasons outside of his control. If only she'd take the time to get to know him…

The loud grumble of protest from his stomach caused his cheeks to flush. He surveyed the overly generous spread of food that lined the middle of the table, which proved to be the textbook definition of a farmer's breakfast. Eggs, bacon, two types of toast, hash browns, baked beans, and of course the steaming stack of pancakes next to a bottle of dark amber maple syrup.

_Do they eat like this every morning?_

Not a single one of the Everdeens was carrying around an extra ounce of weight, which led him to believe the smorgasbord was all for his benefit. It was a good thing his job entailed manual labor because there was no doubt he'd otherwise pack on the pounds from Mrs. Everdeen's country cooking.

After filling his plate with a hefty portion of scrambled eggs, a few strips of bacon, and two pancakes, he looked up to find Katniss buttering a piece of toast, blatantly back to playing her game of obliviousness towards his existence. He wasn't going to push it, so instead he turned to Prim. "So, where's your dad this morning?"

"Oh, he was up hours ago to milk the cows. He's most likely in the fields by now though."

Just then Mrs. Everdeen re-entered the room with a box of tea bags in hand and a steaming kettle of hot water that she set down next to him. "That's right, and he asked that you go out and meet him whenever you're done here."

"Oh, uh, I thought I was supposed to help Katniss in the barn today." He ventured an inquiring glance at Katniss, knowing full well his efforts were futile.

He was met with silence on all fronts and no more than a nonchalant shrug from Mrs. Everdeen before she turned back to the kitchen.

_God this is awkward_, he though as he shoveled a spoonful of eggs into his mouth. Was he ever going to get used to being around so many women under one roof?

The sound of his own chewing was enough to drive him into forced conversation. "So, what does everyone do around here?" he asked as he tore open a package of tea and tossed the bag into his empty cup. As he poured the water, Prim nudged the sugar pot in his direction. "No thanks."

He wasn't sure why he even attempted a glace over to Katniss. He obviously wasn't going to get a word out of her based on the fact that she was now staring out the window.

"Well, most morning _I_ help tend to the animals," Prim said with a hint of pride. "I collect the eggs, feed Lady—that's my goat—and then after I help Mama with the washing or the floors. Afternoons are pretty quiet though. I either spend time in my room or go visit my friend Rue who lives two concessions over."

There was a muffled scoff from across the table. He wasn't a hundred percent sure, but he thought for sure he'd heard Katniss mumble, "speak for yourself" under her breath.

"Well, that sounds like…fun," Peeta said with a smile. "And what about you, Katniss?"

She took a long sip of the contents of her mug before finally turning her attention towards him. "Everything else."

"Right." He took a bite of dry toast and swallowed thickly as he beat back the urge to roll his eyes. "I see," he added before tearing off another bite and chewing slowly.

_Fuck. _Why did she have to make this so damn uncomfortable?

He was trying his best to make this at least a somewhat pleasant experience for the both of them. If they were going to be spending the entire summer together, he'd rather they be on civil speaking terms and that she'd at least acknowledge him rather than…whatever it was she was doing. _God_. Was he really asking too much of her? Would it kill her to just give him a chance? Or was he just trying too hard? And why did she have to do that thing with her mouth? Curling her bottom lip over her teeth and biting down like she wanted to tear into it or…or…

_Shit. _He shook his head and shut his eyes as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. But it did. And it had.

By some godforsaken twist of fate…he was into her.

When he looked up again, it was like he was seeing her through a different set of eyes. As he stared at her face from across the table, truly studying it for the first time since arriving, he felt like something had clicked into place. He didn't see the frown or the line between her furrowed brows. Instead he saw her high-set cheekbones, the few freckles that doted the bridge of her nose, a pair of small ears that held back the loose strands of hair from her face.

Her eyes weren't just grey. Why hadn't he noticed that before? Not a dull, washed out grey but rather full of life, flecked with silver that made her irises seem to dance in the sunlight. And again, that mouth of hers, wait, was she…was she smiling at him?

"Tell me," she started, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. He leaned in, too, finally swallowing his piece of toast as his mouth lifted to return her smile. She was finally going to talk to him. But then something shifted; her eyes narrowed and she squared her shoulders as if she was about to pounce. "Have you ever stepped foot outside of the city, let alone on a farm, before?"

Taken aback by her accusatory tone, he mumbled, "Um, I—"

"Do you know the first thing about growing crops? When to plant? When to spray? When to harvest?"

"Well, no, but I—"

"Or anything about animals? How to milk a cow? What to do when their udders are backed up? How to butcher a chicken?"

His mouth hung open, but the words got lost in his throat. Butcher a chicken? Like, by hand? Peeta stared back at her, feeling like an idiot. She was trying to prove a point and as much of a hit to his pride as it was, she was right. What the hell was he doing here? He finally shut his mouth and sunk back into his chair in defeat.

"Right, I didn't think so." She set down her mug and pushed herself away from the table, the creak of the chair against the floorboards like fingernails on a chalkboard. As she stood and gathered up her dishes, she added in a voice thick with sarcasm, "You better hurry up. Farm life waits for no one."

Peeta reached over and took a gulp tea, the hot liquid searing a trail down his throat as he watched her back disappear into the kitchen. But the pain was nothing compared to the burn she'd just left on his ego, and what little confidence he'd had coming here in the first place was now long gone. Maybe it was a good thing that he was no longer expected to spend the day with Katniss. He obviously wasn't going to get anywhere with her, despite his unfortunate newfound interest in her.

"Don't mind her," Prim said, yet again breaking the tension in the air. "She's just jealous."

"Jealous?" He let out an uneasy laugh in disbelief. "Jealous of what?"

"Why, you of course."

"You're kidding…me? Why me?"

"'Cause you're a guy."

Peeta frowned. "And what does that have to do with anything?"

Prim shook her head. "Everything apparently."

He spent the rest of breakfast in quiet contemplation of what Prim could possibly have meant, but it just didn't make any sense. Not wanting to keep Mr. Everdeen waiting any longer, he downed the rest of his food and brought his dishes into the kitchen where Mrs. Everdeen exchanged them for two brown paper bags.

"Lunch," she said as she nodded towards the bags. Peeta smiled and thanked her. Just as he was about to exit the kitchen he stopped. "Oh, where will I find Mr. Everdeen?"

"Just look for the tractor, he won't be too far from it."

* * *

"So, what's growing?"

Mrs. Everdeen was right. Once Peeta had spotted the tractor parked out on the other side of the field, he found Mr. Everdeen not far from it, digging a hand into the soil and letting it trickle out between his fingers.

"Corn."

Peeta took another scrutinizing look at the green stalks that stood barely a foot tall. "Oh." How obvious was that? He was no farmer but he sure as hell knew what a corn stalk looked like. Maybe if he'd been paying more attention instead of dissecting the events that had taken place over breakfast, he'd have seen the obvious.

In an attempt to make up for his ignorance, he cleared is throat and tried again. "What kind?"

"Field corn."

"Is that…for eating?"

"Nah, that'd be sweet corn. This here's only good enough for cow and chickens. You wouldn't wanna be buttering this stuff up on your plate." He stood and walked a few steps towards the edge of the field where he bent down to rub a leaf between his fingers. "This here crop was planted at the start of May. You see, you wanna get it in the ground as soon as the soil's warmed up; not too early but not too late, either."

"I see, sounds like timing is everything."

"Mother Nature tends to give you some leeway though. I just make sure to have my crop in the ground before Katniss's birthday each year. Everything always seems to work out just fine when I do."

"Oh? When's that?" He hoped the interest in his voice wasn't too obvious, but he was eager for any tidbits of information he could gather about Katniss. He had a nagging urge to figure out what made her tick.

Mr. Everdeen smiled. "The eight of May."

_Taurus the Bull_, Peeta thought. Well that explained a lot. "She seems like a really smart girl."

"That she is. Too smart for her own good most days. And if you haven't figured out yet for yourself, stubborn as a mule."

Peeta chuckled and lifted his hat to run a hand through his hair. Bull or mule, he had his work cut out for him with that one.

"That's why I push her, you know," Mr. Everdeen continued. "She ignored me for weeks after I threatened to take away her truck privileges if she didn't apply to them schools. She was born for greater things than this." The man looked out onto the horizon and inhaled a deep breath. Mile after mile of tiny green stalks with their long billowy leaves rustled in the breeze. "Anyway, how about we start you on your first lesson? You know how to drive a manual transmission?"

_Thank god._ Finally something he did know. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Driving a tractor is just like driving stick. Except this piece of machinery was built for power, not speed. Just make sure you remember that and you'll do just fine."

Peeta gave the tractor a once over and pursed his lips, taking a step closer to inspect some sort of sprayer attached to the back. It didn't look too intimidating; hell, it looked like driving it would be fun!

"Now's about the time we apply a round of nitrogen. Corn is a heavy feeder, so you gotta time it just right before it takes off in the summer heat."

Peeta made sure to pay attention to everything Mr. Everdeen was telling him. He may have come into this job knowing nothing, but he was a fast learner and he was determined to prove to Katniss that he wasn't a complete waste of space or just another ignorant city kid.

"Now," Mr. Everdeen said as he patted Peeta on the shoulder. "Hop on up there and let's get you started."

After only about an hour, Peeta's confidence had returned. He took to operating the tractor and using the sprayer like a natural, so much so that Mr. Everdeen had enough confidence in letting Peeta finish off the rest of the field on his own.

_Wait till Katniss hears_, he thought as he rounded the last leg of the field, smiling proudly to himself. Driving the tractor was surprisingly relaxing, whereas thoughts of Katniss had started to make his head pound. The soothing vibrations and constant hum of the engine had allowed his mind to go on autopilot, sparing him a few hours of relief.

The sun was directly overhead now, relentlessly beating down on his head and back, but he didn't dare take off his shirt. The thought of a blistering sunburn during his first week wasn't appealing. His sweat though, in combination with the dirt clouds he'd kicked up from the tractor runs, had left every inch of his exposed skin caked with a thin film of muck. What he wouldn't do for a shower about now.

A thought crossed his mind as he looked around to get his bearings, realizing that he was now on the west side of the property where a thick line of trees marked the location of the creek that served as the property line. He glanced down at his watch, which told him he still had a good hour before supper.

_Plenty of time_, he thought as he parked the tractor under the overhang of a large oak. Once in the shade, the temperature relief was immediate and the sound of flowing water was like music to his ears.

The creek was no more than six feet across and the clear water revealed a pebbled bottom that looked more inviting than any bath he'd ever seen. Without giving it another thought, he toed off his shoes and peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt that clung to his back like a second skin. He made quick work of stripping down to his boxers but decided to leave them on. Public nudity wasn't something he had an urge it indulge in.

The creek was cool and refreshing and just what he needed. A satisfied groan rumbled through his chest as he lowered his body into the chilly confines of the water; the uneven surface of the creek bed felt surprisingly good against the muscles of his backside. His eyes fell shut as he leaned back, completely submerging himself, except for his face, and stretching out his limbs. The flowing water was more than effective at washing away the dirt and sweat, not to mention the tension from his muscles.

As he lie there, limbs floating freely in the wake of the current, he couldn't help but relish in the way the flowing water felt against his cock. Despite the chilling effect of the water, the movement of the current was strangely erotic. And once coupled with the image of Katniss's face at breakfast that morning when she was toying seductively at her lip (unintentionally or not), well…it was a full blown recipe for disaster.

Peeta reached over and shifted the fabric of his boxers away from his already semi-hard state. _God, what was wrong with him?_ He'd only known her for a day and here he was, already fantasizing about her while sitting half-naked out in the open.

He lifted his head up and shook the water from his hair, but an unexpected crack of a branch breaking caused his eyes to shoot open. He looked around but there was nothing there. Then it was there again, another crack of a branch, but this time he realized the sound was coming from up above.

He peered up and to his surprise, there was Katniss perched up on an overhanging branch with her bare tanned legs dangling in the air.

"Oh, shit," he hissed as he scrambled to his feet.

His heart beat wildly as he stood there, arms hanging boneless at his sides and chest heaving from the sudden start. He stared up at those persistently judgmental eyes, wondering what in the hell she was doing up there. But try as he might, he couldn't keep his eyes off the rest of her, shamelessly letting them roam over her body. Her shirt from that morning was slung over the branch next to her, leaving her in what he thought could have passed as a bikini top, but was most likely her bra. Instead of jeans, she was now in shorts that rode high up her well toned thighs, but from his vantage point on the ground, it was almost as if she wasn't wearing them at all.

_Damn her, _he though, tugging his lip between his teeth in an attempt to tear his eyes away from her. _And damn her smoking hot body._

But more importantly, what _was_ she doing there? Had she been checking up on him? Hidden away in the trees all morning just waiting to see how he fared on his first day? Yeah right, that was giving himself too much credit. She'd made it blatantly clear that she couldn't give two shits about him. But it both surprised and confused him when she made no effort to move or cover herself up, but maybe this was all part of her game. Her game of making him feel uncomfortable every chance she got and send him home packing, proving to her dad that his being there was a mistake.

Well, if she thought he'd break that easily, then she had another thing coming.

When she quirked an eyebrow at him—a challenge, if he wasn't mistaken—her gaze dropped to his groin, which finally caused him to come to his senses.

His hands shot out to cover his privates, but the realization hit him too late that he was on full display thanks to his soaking wet boxers. _God damn cold water_, he thought as her eyes finally shifted back up to his face and the corner of her mouth twitched.

_Was she…smirking at him?_

His face was burning, not from the heat of the day but rather from complete mortification. He looked down to his feet and dug his toes into the pebbles, hoping to root himself in place and keep from crumpling to his knees in embarrassment. How was he ever going to look her straight in the face again?

A quiet thump indicated that she'd left her perch from the tree branch and he ventured a quick glance to make sure. He zeroed in on the swig of her hips as she sauntered off, shirt slung over her shoulder, and cursed quietly to himself when he felt his cock twitch against his thigh. But just before she disappeared behind the cover of a tree trunk, she tilted her head over her shoulder and he swore he saw the upturned corner of her mouth.

_Fuck._ It was going to be a long summer.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, this started off as a one-shot birthday present for my dear friend and beta _Court81981_, but of course it got out of hand and will be posted as a three part fic. Court is an amazing writer and such an inspiration and all round great cheerleader to us other authors, if you haven't already, I would suggest you read all her stories and of course, send her a PM on her special day!

Big thanks to _sunfishdunes_ for stepping up the plate and betaing this for me last minute, she's another author I would highly recommend you check out! Hope you enjoyed Part 1 and I'd love to hear your thoughts. As always, inspiration (and title) can be credited to Rodney Atkin's "Farmer's Daughter", I have a country problem, what can I say :P

Follow me on tumblr: Pookieh


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** This fic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games (although I wish I did).

* * *

_Early July…_

"Ahem?" The swift impact of Prim's elbow making contact with Peeta's side caused him to startle. He glanced over at her expectant face. "You done with that?"

"Oh, right." Gingerly, he set down the dinner plate he was drying and reached for the serving dish in Prim's hand, droplets of water dripping down his forearms. "Sorry, just thinking."

The long summer days had turned to long summer weeks and before Peeta knew it, his first full month at the Everdeen farm had come and gone.

_One down, two to go_, he thought as he stared out the kitchen window, his mind drifting off again as his hands went into autopilot with drying the dishes.

Peeta had finally settled into a routine, and although the days were long and the job back-breaking at times, it was nothing he couldn't handle. Most nights he'd fall face first into bed, utterly exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open, but it was worth it. Knowing that he was needed and that he was a part of something bigger. The work was rewarding, unlike anything he'd experienced before and it left him with a sense of accomplishment and in a new way…whole. As much as he loved his life back in the city, it had always seemed fragmented, as if he was floating through life, standing idly by until he reached the next milestone. But out here, removed from the fast-paced life of the city, he felt a sense of connection.

The farmer's eldest daughter however, was another story.

He still hadn't made much headway with Katniss. It was evident through her critical looks and curt answers when forced into conversation that she had no intention of warming up to him any time soon. The polite and friendly approach hadn't worked. Neither did ignoring her in hopes that sheer curiosity would eventually get the best of her. There was no way he'd sink low enough to play the "douche bag" card either. That just wasn't him.

It didn't make matters any easier when the image of her perched up on that tree branch with no shirt on would pop into his head every damn time he saw her. And he felt only mildly ashamed that the same image was what got him through the rare nights when sleep was hard to come by and he needed extra…help, to fall asleep.

Whether it was her doing or luck of the draw, he found they didn't cross paths much during his waking hours. Most meals she was conveniently absent by the time he showed up, but supper was the one meal she couldn't avoid him. Although even then she'd avoid his gaze, speak only when spoken to, and chew quietly as she stared at her plate.

But something was up with her. Even he could tell without an exchange of words, but it wasn't his business to pry into, no matter how curious he was about her shift in demeanor. She was absent from supper that night, and as much as he tried to hide his concern, it had definitely set him on edge.

"Peeta," Prim said with another nudge of his arm.

With a sigh, he offered her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I don't know what's up with me. Long day I guess."

"That's OK, everyone has them. You know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm a good listener."

"Thanks, but I think I'll be fine." There was no way in hell he was about to spill his guts about Katniss to of all people, her little sister. Although, standing right next to him was a brimming wealth of knowledge when it came to Katniss and he'd be stupid not to tap into it. "Actually Prim, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, shoot."

"Well, how do I ask this without sounding…um, well…I get the feeling that your sister doesn't really, uh, like me. And I was just wondering, is she like that with everyone? Or, uh, is it just…me…"

Not the most eloquent execution he'd hoped for, but whatever. It was kind of a lose-lose situation really, if it was him, then there wasn't much he could do about it. He had no intentions of changing for anyone, even a pair of the sexiest eyes he'd ever seen before. But if it wasn't him and that was just how she treated everyone, then it meant exactly that. He was just like everyone else. Nothing special.

Prim set down the pot she was scrubbing gently back down into the sudsy water. Her lips thinned as she wiped her hands down the front of the apron she was wearing and turned to look at him. The serious look on her face caused a fission of worry to ripple through him.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about the way my sister's been treating you. Katniss is not…the most likable of people. She's not like you and me. She has a hard time getting to know people and an even harder time letting anyone in. So please don't take it personally, OK? It's not you."

"OK," he answered with a reassuring smile.

"I like you, Peeta, and I hope you're not having second thoughts about being here."

"Oh, no. You don't have to worry about that." He smiled down at her gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Because even though you might not believe me, I think she actually—"

Prim was cut off by the sudden low rumble of an engine and the appearance of a bright set of headlights shining through the kitchen window. When the lights dimmed in the cloud of dust that billowed up and finally went dark, he could make out Katniss's face in the passenger seat and some guy he'd never seen before behind the wheel.

"Who's that?"

"That's Gale, our neighbor across the creek."

"Oh."

Peeta turned back to the window, trying hard not to stare as Katniss and whoever this Gale character was got out of the unfamiliar truck. They stopped in front of the hood and both leaned back, not looking at each other but apparently deep in conversation. Peeta watched Katniss's face as her mouth moved silently, suddenly wishing the pane of glass would disappear so he could hear what she was saying. It was rare for her to ever talk in his presence, but she apparently had a lot to say to the tall, dark figure next to her.

He couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that burned the tips of his ears. It was irrational. He knew it was. Katniss wasn't his. He had no right for any such emotion. Hell, for all he knew, the guy was her boyfriend.

The realization sunk like a stone down his throat, eventually settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. It'd never crossed his mind that perhaps the reason for the cold shoulder was because she was already taken.

"So, is that her, uh…" He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

Prim wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Who, Gale? Ew, no, he's like our brother!"

"I see." Her words placated him somewhat, but just because Prim saw the guy that way, didn't necessarily mean her sister did, too.

He looked to Katniss's face again, searching for a spark…a hint of something—anything really—that showed she held feelings towards the guy. As usual, her features were void of any emotion, which eased his mind somewhat, but it was by no means a definitive answer. He chanced another glace at Gale, frowning as he admitted to himself that the guy wasn't at all bad looking. His tall and lean frame was in his favor as well. Peeta's eyes narrowed as he continued to study his face, taking note of the subtle changes in the guy's features and the slight lift to the corner of his mouth.

_Well, that's a dead giveaway._

The way Gale seemed to hang on her every word, nodding his head as though he understood her in a way Peeta could only ever hope to. But the way his gaze seemed to linger on her mouth and—God damn it—drop to her chest…well, it was fucking obvious. Peeta was certain the guy had a raging boner with Katniss's name written all over it tucked in those jeans of his.

It was then that Peeta realized he was gripping the towel in his hand so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

_Fuck_. What was she doing to him? Whatever it was, it wasn't healthy. Of that he was quite certain.

"Hey, can you keep a secret?" Peeta tore his eyes away from the scene out the window and looked over at Prim, interest suddenly piqued and hoping his jealousy wasn't written all over his face.

"Well, you're in luck, that's one of my specialties."

"Cross your heart and hope to die?"

Peeta went through the motions and crossed an invisible "X" over his chest. "And stick a needle in my eye."

"Ew, that's gross!" she said as she swatted gently at his arm. Prim leaned in covertly, glancing around as though they were being watched and whispered, "Dad doesn't approve of him." She cast her eyes outside the window and nodded towards Gale.

Peeta felt a sudden flutter in his chest and had to clear his throat as not to sound too eager for more details. "Oh, really, and what makes you think that?"

"I don't think so, I _know_ so," she said matter-of-factly, placing her hands on her hips. "I overheard Mama and Dad talking one night about it. I came downstairs to get a glass of water and they were whispering in the living room. See, Mr. Hawthorne died a few years back. It was around the time Gale was supposed to head off to college, but after what happened, he ended up staying here to help his mama out with the farm. He's been taking care of it ever since."

Peeta looked back out at Gale, feeling a hint of sympathy for the guy. "OK, but wouldn't your dad see that as a respectable trait? You know, stepping up to the plate of responsibility and all?"

"Well, if it was anyone else then yeah, sure. But you see, the way Dad put it, he'd be just another reason for Katniss to stay here."

"Oh."

Visions of his first night at the farm came flooding back. Katniss's unforgettable face before her sudden outburst at the mention of college and leaving the farm. The way her eyes shot arrows at him from across the table just before she stomped out of the dining room. Then a thought crossed his mind.

"But you know, from what I've gathered, your sister can be pretty, uh, stubborn. So don't you think your dad's disapproval would be even more of an incentive for her to like him? Seeing that she's already not too impressed with your dad about the whole college thing and all," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Hmm…she may be stubborn, but if Katniss had really wanted something from him, trust me, it'd have happened by now."

Peeta scratched at his chin as he let her words mull over in his head. Movement from outside the window caught his attention and his heart leapt when he saw Katniss finally push off the hood of the truck to head towards the house. He also couldn't help but notice the way Gale stared her down as she climbed the front porch steps, and it took all the strength he possessed not to slam his fists on the counter when he caught the guy licking his lips as though he was sitting down to a steak dinner.

The sound of the front door closing brought him to his senses and he took a deep breath. _Get a grip_, he thought to himself before slinging the dish towel over his shoulder and looking over at the plate of food he'd left out on the counter. Mrs. Everdeen insisted it wasn't necessary, that Katniss would have eaten wherever it was she'd gone to. But Peeta couldn't help it; if there was a chance she hadn't, he didn't want her to come home hungry and to nothing.

Both he and Prim turned, leaning against the counter when Katniss finally appeared in the kitchen doorway, and to both his surprise and slight trepidation, she was smiling. It was the first time he'd ever seen her smile. A true smile, one that a person doesn't even know they're doing when no one else is around. She didn't notice them as she set her bag down on the kitchen table, but Prim's abrupt clearing of her throat changed all that.

"Shit!" Katniss hissed, her hand going straight to her chest. "You scared the hell out of me!"

Peeta looked away, pretending to be occupied with an invisible thread on his shirt.

"How was your night?" Prim asked as she casually crossed her arms over her chest, but the hint of sarcasm didn't go unnoticed.

"Fine," Katniss answered abruptly. She moved towards the counter and grabbed the plate of food before reaching awkwardly around Peeta to grab a fork from the pile of clean dishes next to him. He couldn't resist the urge to peer up and search her face, which was flush as she mumbled a quick "excuse me".

She turned and made a quick beeline for doorway, disappearing up the stairs as her footsteps faded.

"You're welcome!" Prim shouted up after her sister, shaking her head before looking over to Peeta with an apologetic smile. "Like I said, don't take it to heart. It's not you."

* * *

"Undersee's Berry Farm," Peeta read aloud to himself as he slowed the truck, releasing a quiet chuckle at the professionally printed sign with a bright red strawberry waving back at him.

That morning, bright and earlier than usual, he'd found Mr. Everdeen waiting for him down in the tool shed as he descended the steps on his way to breakfast. Mrs. Everdeen had asked Peeta to show her how to whip up something they made at the bakery, and so he'd set his alarm an hour earlier than normal. Without a doubt, he'd decided on cheese buns. They were quick and easy but by far one of his favorites. He couldn't resist the chance to share his skills in the kitchen with her, and with being away from home for so long, he never thought he'd miss baking.

After breakfast, Mr. Everdeen asked that Peeta call on Mr. Undersee, a fellow farmer who years back had taken a leap of faith and cleared his grain fields to try his luck in the berry industry. Strawberries to be exact. Acres and acres of them.

He wasn't exactly sure what sort of help Mr. Undersee required, but over the past month Peeta had proven himself a jack of all trades. According to Mr. Everdeen, Peeta was a fast learner and had already proven his worth by going above and beyond his expectations.

He slowed down when a gleaming red barn board sided storefront came into view and parked the truck under a row of trees. By the looks of the place, Mr. Undersee was doing exceptionally well in his new endeavor. There was no one else around so he entered the store, releasing a low whistle as he took in the ritzy setup and upscale ambiance.

A head of blonde hair popped up from behind the counter. "Why, thank you," she giggled as she propped her elbows up on the granite surface. Peeta flushed and took a step towards her, digging his hands into his back pockets.

"Hi, I'm looking for Mr. Undersee? I'm from the Everdeen farm."

"Oh! Well, I'm Madge. Mr. Undersee's one and only daughter."

Peeta offered her a hand. "I'm Peeta Mellark. I'm helping out over at the Everdeen's for the summer."

Madge took hold of his hand and squeezed gently, making no attempt to hide the way her eyes raked over him with the blatant dip of her head. "And with arms like that, you're a big help, I'm sure." Peeta took a step back when she winked at him, looking away and blushing at the girl's forward nature. "Anyway, my daddy got called out this morning, but he left instructions that one of the fences needs mending and there's a pile of brush that's been building up since the spring that needs mulching."

"Right. Well, if you just point me in the right direction, I'll get to it."

"Why don't I just show you?"

"You sure? Don't you have to, uh, look after the store?"

"Oh it'll be fine," she said with a wave of her hand.

He followed her lead and waited as she hung a "back in 15" sign over the one that read "open" and closed the door behind them. Peeta made a brief stop by the truck to collect his tool bag and gloves out of the truck bed, all the while feeling as though his every move was being watched. He'd learned during his second week that mending fences wasn't a job to take on without a good pair of leather gloves. He was used to calluses from working in the bakery, but after his first few blisters from working on the farm, he'd formed a new appreciation for his gloves.

The fence in question wasn't in too rough shape, it would take him a good hour or two but it was the brush pile that was larger than he'd expected. He was hoping to be back to the farm by lunch, but it'd be well into the afternoon by the time he'd be done. He tossed his tool bag in the grass and retrieved his gloves from his back pocket.

"So, this will take me a few hours but it's nothing I can't handle," he said with a natural confidence that radiated off of him. A month ago he wouldn't have know the difference between a pair of long nose pliers and cutting pliers, but thanks to Mr. Everdeen's patience and wealth of knowledge, he was certain he could almost pass as a bona fide country native.

"Well that's good to hear."

She smiled and from the corner of his eye he could tell she was staring him as he bent over to rummage through his tools. _Was she going to linger here all day?_ The girl was kind enough, but he wasn't really up for an audience while trying to get a job done.

Maybe if he just got right to it, she'd get the point and leave him be. He responded with a tight lipped smile as he stood and turned his back to her, focusing his attention on reattaching a piece of barbed wire that had come loose from one of the posts.

He wasn't sure how long she stood there, but it felt like hours. Suddenly, a hand was on his forearm and he stiffened as her fingers trailed lightly up his skin.

"Well, come find me if you need anything."

"Will do," he answered without looking at her, trying not to let his irritation slip.

When he was certain that he was finally alone, he blew out a long sigh and settled into his zone as he continued with the fence.

It was going to be another hot day and the brim of his ball cap was drenched with sweat by the time the sun was high overhead. He paused to guzzle down some water but when his stomach grumbled loudly he cursed under his breath. He'd forgotten to pack a lunch. All he had was a cheese bun from the batch he'd baked that morning with Mrs. Everdeen.

He sat down in the long grass and leaned back against a fence post as he tore open the bun and stuffed half of it into his mouth. He didn't have the usual blend of cheeses they used at the bakery, but he made do with what Mrs. Everdeen had on hand and the fresh goat cheese (thanks to Prim and Lady) was a pleasant addition to the mix. He shut his eyes briefly as he enjoyed a short break, letting his breath finally catch up to him.

"Thought I'd bring you out some iced tea and a snack," a voice said unexpectedly and the cool presence of a shadow fell over top him. His eyes shot open to find Madge grinning down at him with a tall glass in one hand and a tart of some sort in the other.

"Thanks," he said as he took the proffered items. Out of curiosity, he glanced down at the tart.

"Strawberry tart, of course," she said.

When she took a seat next to him, he cringed internally at how close she was, but smiled politely back at her regardless. Despite the unwanted company, the iced tea did wonders in cooling him from the inside out.

Madge Undersee proved to be more of a chatterbox than he'd expected. Her rapid fire questions ranged from the typical "how's the summer going so far?" and "where are you from?" to "do you have a girlfriend?" and "are you looking for one?", the last one causing him to hammer a fist to his chest to keep from choking on her bluntness.

Even though he didn't ask, he learned more than he'd anticipated about her, too. She spent most of her time in the city with her mother who suffered from intense migraines. The country was just too far away from her doctors and the medication she desperately needed on a continual basis. The summers she spent at the farm, helping her father with the store. He felt a twinge of pity for the girl, having to split her time between her parents while growing up, but if it'd affected her negatively in any way, she hid it well.

When Peeta drained the last drop from his glass, he thanked her again for the refreshment and company but it was about time he got back to work. He wasn't sure if it was the combination of the exhausting heat or his built up frustrations with Katniss finally bubbling up to the surface, but he just wasn't in the mood for Madge's flirting, regardless of whether it was harmless or not.

The rest of the afternoon passed by quickly, spurred on by the fact that he just wanted to get back to the farm. When he returned to the truck, he tossed his hat into the back and tugged off his shirt, mopping up the remaining sweat from his brow before reaching for a fresh one that he'd thankfully thought best to bring along.

"Done so soon?" Madge asked with a pout when he returned to the store.

"Yeah, made better time than I expected."

"Well in that case, care to stick around a bit longer and keep me company until my daddy returns? Then you can tell him how it went yourself."

Peeta ran a hand through is hair and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks, but no, I need to be getting back. I have a few things I still need to tend to back at the farm." None of it was true, but the thought of sticking around any longer than he needed and given the circumstance, he wasn't above lying.

"Well, if I can't persuade you then…here." She lifted a flat of strawberries from beneath the counter and pushed it towards him. "As a thank you for your help today." Before he could refuse the kind gesture, she turned and grabbed a bottle from the top shelf behind her. "This too, it's our famous strawberry wine."

"That's very kind of you, but I can't accept this," Peeta said, holding up his hands. Mr. Everdeen hadn't mentioned anything about payment for his services; he just assumed it's what the farmers around here did. Helped each other out when in need and returned the favor when they could. "Really, just a simple 'thanks' would suffice."

"Please, you earned it." She reached out to grasp his forearm and squeezed gently. "Besides, I'm sure once you've tried the wine, you'll be back for more." Peeta looked up just in time to catch her wet her lips.

_Was she serious?_ The girl was damn persistent, he'd give her that much, but he'd had enough. He pulled his arm back slowly and decided it was better to just accept the gifts and not argue any longer. He balanced the flat on one arm and grabbed hold of the bottle of wine in the other.

"Well, thanks. I'm sure Mrs. Everdeen will enjoy these." He turned back once he was a safe enough distance away and added, "It was nice meeting you, Madge, hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

"I sure will!" she called out as he exited the store.

He let out a loud groan when he reached the truck, opening the passenger side door and shoving the strawberries and the bottle onto the seat. With one last hesitant glace back at the store, he shook his head as he climbed behind the wheel and started up the engine.

* * *

Peeta had never been a vain person by any means.

In fact, he never really considered himself much of a looker, but that didn't mean he was a stranger to attention from the opposite sex. His earlier encounter with Madge Undersee had left him unsettled and he couldn't stop his mind from reeling during the half hour drive back to the Everdeen farm.

He'd never understand why any girl, especially the type like Madge, would give him the time of day. He didn't fit the typical tall, dark, and handsome persona, and it wasn't until high school when he'd filled out and joined the wrestling team that people started to take notice. Before that, he was just another one of the baker's boys. Sure, at times the extra attention was amusing, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't stroke his ego to some degree, but the interest was always one-sided. He was never rude about it. His dad had raised him to be respectful and polite, but the girls that showed interest in him were just never his type.

_Whatever that was_, he thought but then shook his head. He was only lying to himself. He knew exactly what his type was and she was roaming about somewhere back at the farm spending her waking hours avoiding him like the plague.

Prim had said it wasn't him, but Peeta couldn't help but wonder, was there something wrong with him? Was he lacking in some way? What did other girls see in him that Katniss didn't? Maybe he just wasn't _her_ type.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth as he started up the driveway to the house. With a heavy sigh, he gripped the steering wheel and frowned at his reflection in the rear view mirror. There was no use in pitying himself. If she hadn't shown any interest in him by now, let alone hinted at anything along the lines of forming a friendship, then it just wasn't going to happen.

After parking the truck, he stared for a moment down at the strawberries, thinking back to the way Madge had practically thrown herself at him. Had he set his standards too high? All these years, had he been missing out on something—or someone—based on what he thought he wanted, instead what was available?

"Ugh," he groaned, slumping back against the headrest. Clearly he wasn't getting anywhere, not when all thoughts unsurprisingly led right back to Katniss.

When he went in to drop off the berries, he found Mrs. Everdeen alone in the kitchen, and was surprised that her little sidekick Prim wasn't there with her preparing supper. The woman's eyes went wide at the sight of him. "Good heavens! What will we do with them all?"

Peeta set the flat down on the counter and stared down at the plump, ripe fruit. Back at home they had over a dozen recipes that called for strawberries. Then it hit him. When it came to Katniss, he in fact hadn't tried _everything _yet. Why on earth hadn't he thought of it before? Barely able to contain his excitement, he turned back to Mrs. Everdeen.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to make dessert tonight. My treat."

"Oh, that sounds lovely! What did you have in mind?"

"We make a mean strawberry shortcake at the bakery."

"Well, only on one condition." She reached over and popped a strawberry into her mouth and after swallowing, arched an eyebrow at him. "You have to write down the recipe after, and no leaving out any special ingredients," she emphasized with a shake of her finger.

Peeta laughed as he moved to the sink, running his hands back and forth through the cool stream of water to loosen the dirt and grime from his hands. "I wouldn't dare."

Two hours later, after cleaning up after himself and taking the time to set the dinner table, Peeta escaped back to his room for a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes. He set the bottle of strawberry wine down on the desk, feeling only slightly ashamed that he didn't offer it to Mrs. Everdeen. Not one for getting his hopes up too early, he needed a backup plan and what better way to end his night than getting tipsy off overly-sweet fruity wine while working on his sketches?

Thanks to his indecisiveness with regards his shirt choice, Peeta was last for supper, but he was secretly relieved to see that Katniss hadn't decided to skip out on dinner again. Content with how the cake had turned out, he took his usual spot across from her and settled in to his meal with an easy smile.

Peeta half listened as Mr. Everdeen went on about how he'd spent most of the day over at Abernathy's farm, helping the old drunkard build a pen for his geese. Every once in awhile, he'd absentmindedly nod and chimed in when everyone laughed at a certain part of the story, but whatever the punch line was, it'd gone completely over his head. When he looked up to see if anyone had noticed, he caught Katniss eyeing him back. She raised an skeptical eyebrow at him, no doubt silently asking "what the hell is up with you". He responded with a nonchalant shrug and turned his attention back to his mashed potatoes, hoping he'd sparked some sort of curiosity in her.

Dinner continued on in casual conversation and Peeta finally perked up an ear when Mr. Everdeen ran through the list of things they needed to get done the next day. However, when Mrs. Everdeen began to divulge in some local gossip she'd picked up on during her sewing circle the night before, his eyes glazed over as he tuned out once again.

"So, what's for dessert?" Prim asked as the dinner plates were being cleared away.

"Why don't you help me and see for yourself?" Mrs. Everdeen answered as she snuck a sideways glance at Peeta before disappearing into the kitchen.

His heel bounced rhythmically up and down against the wooden floor as she set the cake down in the center of the table and his eyes darted down to his fidgeting hands in his lap. Prim followed close behind, balancing a bowl of freshly whipped cream in one hand and another heaping full of glistening, ripe strawberries in the other.

"Well, what's this?" Mr. Everdeen grinned as he took a swipe of the whipped cream that was piped decoratively around the base of the cake.

"Patience," his wife scolded, batting his hand away with the serving knife. "Strawberry shortcake of course, what does it look like?"

Peeta watched warily from the corner of his eye as Katniss studied the piece that was placed in front of her. As her fork sunk into the spongy layers, he held his breath. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he watched it disappear into her mouth, her tongue darting out to lick at a smudge of whipped cream caught on the corner of her mouth.

The gesture was innocent, but it caused a not so innocent stirring within the confines of his shorts. Ignoring his body's ill-timed reaction, he hunched forward in anticipation and changed to himself, _please like it, please like it, please like it_. But all his worries faded when her apprehension melted and the look of shear bliss over took her face.

A smug smile tugged at his lips. He had her. Hook, line, and sinker.

"Mama," Katniss groaned as she scooped up another generous forkful. "This is _amazing_," she mumbled over her full mouth. Peeta bit his lip, trying not to laugh at just how damn cute she looked. Perhaps the way to this girl's heart _was_ through her stomach. She quickly swallowed before turning to her mother, "How come you've never made this before?"

"I didn't make it." Katniss's fork froze just inches away from her mouth, her eyebrows knit in confusion. Mrs. Everdeen turned to look him straight in the eye and grinned. "Peeta did."

Katniss lowered her hand, her eyes dropping down to the cake before slowly drifting up to meet his. "Oh, well…it's good."

"Thanks," he all but whispered with a timid smile.

"You've been holding out on us, son!" Mr. Everdeen said as he used his thumb to gather up the crumbs scattered across his plate. "So are these Undersee's berries?" he asked before scooping a generous bite into his mouth.

"Yes, sir, they are. Mr. Undersee's daughter—Madge, is it?" Peeta looked to Katniss for confirmation but was met with a blank stare. "Well, she sent the strawberries home with me as thanks for the job today."

"Well, lucky you." He winked at Peeta. "I'd have walked outta there empty handed. Looks to me like you might have picked yourself up an admirer."

"Such a lovely girl, isn't she?" Mrs. Everdeen asked as she patted her mouth delicately with her napkin.

Peeta could feel the flush rising up the back of his neck. He didn't want to be rude, but at the same time, he felt as though he was being backed into a corner. It didn't help that all of a sudden he could feel daggers being stared at him from across the table.

"Um, yeah, she was nice." He chanced a quick glance at Katniss whose lips were now pursed as she gripped her fork.

"Katniss and Madge used to be such great friends when they were younger," Mrs. Everdeen continued before turning to Katniss. "Whatever happened between you two?"

"Beats me," Katniss answered between clenched teeth. She set down her fork and without another word, like so many times before, pushed away from the table to excuse herself. Peeta stared at her half empty plate and sighed, disappointment sinking in as his appetite too was suddenly lost.

As much as it pained him to sit through the rest of dessert, Peeta forced himself to wait patiently until everyone else had finished (which unfortunately meant another two slices of cake for Mr. Everdeen). In his mind he was still retracing his steps, desperate to figure out where he'd gone wrong this time as he helped clear the table. He could have sworn he'd had her with the cake, but the moment Madge had been mentioned, it was like someone had flipped a switch.

Her walls were back up, and he was back at square one.

Would he ever be able to get through to her again? Or were further attempts to reach out to her now pointless? As hard as it was to swallow defeat, he found himself out of options.

At least there was a bottle of wine still waiting for him up in his room. It was about time he moved on, and what better place to start than there?

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**Author's Note:** Now, before anyone starts to hate me, you guys know I'm Everlark endgame…so bear with me! Also, I mentioned in the first chapter that this would be a three part fic…ha, yeah right…it'll be more. Love to hear your thoughts on this one first!

Big thanks again to _sunfishdunes_ for her beta skills, she rocks!

Follow me on tumblr: Pookieh


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** This fic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games (although I wish I did).

* * *

After asking if he could help with the dishes, Peeta was shooed out of the kitchen by Mrs. Everdeen with a flapping dishtowel. He was actually quite relieved. The urge to hole himself up in his room for the night was mounting and after locating his shoes, he bid Mr. Everdeen and Prim a good night as they retreated to the living room to settle down in front of the television.

Peeta was more than ready to call it a day and with a heavy sigh, he pushed open the screen door and found himself staring out into the darkness as he stood on the front porch.

The night was still young, but the soft glow from the porch light had already attracted a swarm of bugs. A large moth caught his eye, its oversized wings beating wildly as it fluttered towards the beacon of light. He watched quietly as it bashed into the glass, over and over, never letting up its efforts to reach the unattainable goal.

_I know the feeling, buddy_, he thought as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

The creak of the porch swing caused Peeta to curse under his breath as he spun towards the sound. There in the shadows, studying him as she pushed herself back and forth with her foot, was Katniss.

"Jesus, you scared me," he hissed.

Out of habit he waited for a reply, but he knew better than to expect one. He wasn't in the mood for her silent treatment, not after what had transpired over dinner. There was a full bottle of wine with his name on it waiting up in his room, and the thought of drowning out the awkward events of the day was beyond appealing.

After a perturbed sigh he pursed his lips, but she continued to regard him a few moments longer before crossing her arms over her chest. Just as he was about to turn and leave, she suddenly stopped rocking and rose to her feet. The faint smell of orange blossom and something woodsy wafted his way as she brushed past him and slid down the steps towards the tool shed.

"Hey," he called out after her_. What was she up to?_

He was on the move, practically stumbling over his own feet as he tried to keep just a few steps behind her. When they reached the door to the tool shed, she stopped abruptly and spun towards him, raising an expectant eyebrow.

When he didn't respond, she huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair into the air and out of her face. "Well, are you going to invite me up?"

He glanced hesitantly back at the house to where the flickering lights of the television filled the living room window. To where Mr. Everdeen was seated comfortably in front of said television. Less than fifty feet away. "Um, you sure that's a good idea? What about your dad?"

"What about him?" she challenged, setting her jaw in a hard line. "You scared?"

_Scared shitless_, he thought as he narrowed his eyes in return.

They stood there, locked in a stare down, each waiting for the other to make the first move. He could be stubborn too if he wanted. And it was about time he gave her a taste of her own medicine.

Neither one moved for at least another minute until Katniss finally rolled her eyes and, taking matters into her own hands, flung the door open with a huff. She was already halfway up the stairs by the time he realized where she was heading. With one last weary look towards the house, he slowly coaxed the wooden door shut, cringing when the rusty hinges creaked, echoing through the night air like the crack of a whip.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he had to pause to allow both his mind and his racing heart to catch up. It didn't seem real as he watched her from the doorway, both thrilled and nervous as hell that she was physically there. Since his arrival, this was the second time they'd been alone together. First time in the same room. His bedroom to be exact. And by some twist of fate, here she was, and of her own free will.

Her back was to him as she switched on the lamp in the corner, taking her time as she walked about, pausing to study the few possessions he had scattered about the room.

To keep from fidgeting, Peeta shoved his hands back into his shorts and leaned against the doorframe, worried that if he made a sound she'd disappear into thin air. Her sun-kissed skin almost glowed in the dim light and the way her braid swung between her shoulder blades as she moved was mesmerizing. He was amazed at how quiet she was. Were her feet even touching the ground as she moved? The wooden floorboards never ceased to protest beneath his heavy tread.

She reached for the bottle on the desk, turning it over in her hand to read the label. He flinched when her face shifted to a scowl. "What's this?" she asked, finally turning to acknowledge him.

He ran a shaky hand up the back of his neck. "A, uh, parting gift from Madge this afternoon." _Damn it._ Why did he feel so guilty? It wasn't like he'd asked for it or even wanted to accept the gift.

"I see." She glanced back down at the wine, her frown unyielding. Finally, with a small shrug, she cracked open the screw top and took a generous swig. Her mouth made a popping sound as her lips broke free from the bottle and when she turned to offer him a drink, he declined with a shake of his head.

He had a pressing urge to clear the air about Madge. Who knew what misconceptions Katniss might have drawn, but whatever they were he was certain they were wrong. There was no interest on his end and Katniss needed to know that.

He took a deep breath and a step forward._ Well, here goes nothing._

"So, you and Madge were friends?" Her response was something between a snort and a laugh, and it caused the corner of his mouth to twitch in amusement. "I'll take that as a 'no' then."

She dragged a hand across the desk before drumming her fingers against it, her face pensive as if choosing her words wisely. "I guess you could say we were, up until recently. Although, it was more out of necessity than anything."

"Necessity?"

"Oh you know." She tipped the bottle up to her lips again and guzzled down another mouthful. "We'd pair up for school projects and stuff, and sit together at lunch on occasion. But you wouldn't catch us having sleepovers or braiding each other's hair though. Then this past year, something changed, we just…grew apart."

"I see," he said, nodding his head in understanding, but something about the tone of her voice led him to believe she was holding something back.

Then again, maybe that really was all there was to it. Throughout his years at school, Peeta had never been a stranger to crowds. Whether he actually considered the group of people who hung around him all as friends, he was hesitant to say. A handful maybe, but even those select few seemed to change with the seasons.

But whatever her reasons, if she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to push her. Hell, it was already a miracle that she was openly conversing with him now!

With a heavy sigh, Katniss glanced over at him. "Like my mama said, Madge was always the pretty one. Don't you think?"

"Well, like I said at dinner, she was nice enough. But definitely not my type."

_There_. He said it. How could she argue with that?

"Right." She bobbed her head but her cutting tone spoke volumes. "Perfect blonde hair, stunning blue eyes, flawless skin…what's there to like?"

_So that's how she wants to play this_, he thought as he rolled his eyes. "There's more to a person than looks."

"Oh I'm well aware, and so I'm assuming brash, stubborn, and unrefined is more your type then," she scoffed.

"Well, that all depends…would I ever have a chance with someone like that?" He was a little nervous that he'd said too much, that he'd been too forward, but she didn't say a word.

Katniss continued to walk about the room, the bottle of wine still clutched in one hand as she reached out the other to lightly touch the random objects on the desk. A book from his "Intro to American Literature" summer reading list. A framed picture of him and his brothers in front of the bakery. The set of watercolors that Prim had lent him along with brushes that stood upright in a tin cup he'd found down in the tool shed.

All the muscles in his body tightened and he drew in a sharp breath when her fingers ghosted over the worn leather cover of his sketch book. _Oh God, no._ He willed her to move on but it was too late, the curiosity on her face was clear.

But what was he supposed to do? If he made a lunge for it, it would definitely give her reason to think he was hiding something and she'd damn well make a sport out of embarrassing him for it. Instead, he stood frozen in his spot and said a silent prayer that she'd leave it be.

God wasn't listening and his heart leapt into his throat when she flipped the cover open. He swallowed it back though when he realized she'd turned to the page of the sun setting over a wheat field. He'd sketched it his second week here while out exploring the countryside one evening. Her fingers hovered over the image as though she was tracing each and every one of his pencil strokes.

"This is really good," she finally commented without looking up.

"Thanks."

"No seriously, like, amazing. You're really talented."

Accepting flattery wasn't one of his strong suits, so coming from the likes of Katniss on top of that, well, it was just unfathomable. Not to mention, he rarely ever shared his drawings with anyone, especially with his subject matter. He decided to keep quiet and shrugged his shoulders modestly as he dropped his gaze to the floorboards.

He'd tried not to draw her. He'd tried to stick to landscapes or images of wildlife, but she always had a way of creeping into his thoughts and before he knew it, half the sketches in his book were of her. The way she looked the first night he met her, eyes ablaze and so full of life despite her anger. Her perched up on the tree limb by the creek, her tan skin dappled in the shade of the leaves. And by far his favorite, the day he'd found her sitting atop a fence post as she looked out onto the horizon, deep in thought as the sun set before her.

A quiet gasp caught his attention and his eyes darted up in time to see that she'd flipped over to the next page. _Oh fuck_. He watched in horror as she stared blankly at the paper.

"Katniss, I—I can explain…" He trailed off, his throat tightening when he realized he really couldn't.

"Is this how you see me?"

He opened his mouth, but then closed it, unsure of how to proceed. It wasn't the reaction he was expecting. He decided to err on the side of caution but answered honestly. "Yes."

"You made me look beautiful."

Beautiful was a gross understatement. Didn't she know she was utterly breathtaking? But of course not. A girl like Katniss wouldn't have a clue.

"I only captured the truth," he finally said, briefly meeting her gaze.

She closed the cover of the sketch pad and stared down at it, her fingers drumming slowly along the worn leather as she set the bottle down on the desk. The silence was killing him. What was she thinking? Did she think he was pathetic? After all the weeks of being on the receiving end of the cold shoulder, he needed to hear her to say something…anything.

Katniss finally turned to him, her face thoughtful as she studied him. Searching for something. For what he wasn't sure, but he couldn't look away from the stormy grey sea of confliction in her eyes. It was as if an invisible line was reeling her in towards him, and his heart thumped faster with each tentative step she took forward. Before he knew it, she was right there. Close enough to make out the smattering of freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose. Close enough that the smell of orange blossom surrounded him like a cocoon. Close enough to feel the puff of breath she gave as if she'd finally decided on something.

It happened before his mind could comprehend what was going on. The feel of her mouth on his—soft and warm and wet—mingled with the sweet taste of strawberry wine that lingered on her lips. He melted into her, eyes falling shut when her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing his face down further into hers. His head was swimming, every one of his senses filled with her. Reaching out, his open palms skimmed up her sides and then along her arms to hold her hands in place with his own.

When the tip of her tongue leisurely glided past the seam of his lips and she moaned lightly, it awoke the rational part of his conscience and the blissful haze started to clear. _What was happening?_ His eyes shot open and he gripped her wrists tight as he pulled away, his breathing now ragged as he held her at an arm's length away from his body.

"Whoa…wait a minute." He licked his lips, the taste of her still on them as he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell was that?"

The once soft lines of her face suddenly hardened and he could feel her start to shrink away from him, but he stood his ground. As much as certain parts of him were protesting his sudden insistence of morality, he needed answers.

He lowered his head to look her straight in the eye. "You don't talk to me, pretty much ignore me since day one, and now all of a sudden here you are, in my room…alone…and _kissing_ me?!"

"What, didn't you like it?" she spat, looking away but not before he noticed the flush rising up her cheeks.

Peeta snorted. "Is that a joke? Of course I liked it! Do you know how hard it was for me to stop? I've been dreaming about what your lips taste like since the day I met you! But why? Why'd you do it?"

"Maybe I _wanted_ to," she fumed. "The thought ever cross you mind? Or is that too hard to believe."

He gawked at her, his jaw dropping in disbelief. "Uh, yeah actually."

Peeta finally loosened his hold on her and made his way over to the bed, dropping to the mattress to rest his elbows on his knees as he tried to process what the hell was going on. Her footsteps drew closer, and although he was relieved they weren't headed in the opposite direction and down the stairs, he continued to stare at the floor. She stopped just in front of him, her bare feet coming into his line of vision between his own.

"Listen, I'm not good." He peered up to find her features strained as if struggling for the right words to express herself. "I mean, with people, I'm not any good at it." She took a deep breath. "Especially with you."

He tried desperately not to let his hopeful mind fill in the blanks as to what she was trying to say, but whatever it was, he needed to hear it in her own words. Perhaps she just needed a little push. "Alright, but when you say 'with me', do you mean because …you might actually like me?"

For a minute she was quiet, unable to look him in the eye no matter how much he wished her to. But he remained patient, letting her finally answer when she was ready. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'm trying to say."

A swooping sensation barreled through Peeta's chest and he was certain it'd burst as the giddy feeling continued to ripple through his body. His arms suddenly ached to hold her again, if only to prove to himself that this was real. Reaching out steadily, he laced his fingers with hers and drew her in closer until she was standing between his legs.

"Why didn't you just say so earlier?" He smiled up at her, noting the way her face softened bashfully.

"Because I didn't _want_ to like you." Peeta's mouth twitched in amusement as she continued to explain herself. "At first I thought you were just some stuck up city kid who came here to prove something, and the way my dad took you under his wing like some long-lost son, or should I say, the son he never had, well…it fucking pissed me off."

He grinned like an idiot, overjoyed that she was finally opening up to him despite the bitter context of her words. He didn't want her to stop, not now, not anytime soon. "And? What about now?"

"Well, I've been watching you. I've seen how you are with my family. How you treat my dad with respect and are always so eager to learn anything and everything he has to offer. How you treat Prim like she's your own little sister, humoring her every whim. How you help my mama around the house…hell, you even baked with her!"

Peeta chuckled. "So you did like my strawberry shortcake."

"Seriously?" she groaned, leaning her head back to stare up at the ceiling. "It was the best damn thing I've ever tasted. And those cheese buns you made this morning…I practically inhaled the whole plate of them before Prim showed up for breakfast."

He tugged on her hands to get her look back down at him. When she did, the sight of her shy smile caused his heart to skip a beat. "I'll make you more, if you let me." Taking her hands, he wrapped them around his neck before trailing his own up her arms and then down her sides, eventually stopping at her hips. With an earnest gaze he whispered, "I'll do anything you want, Katniss. All you have to do is ask."

This time he was ready when she leaned in, darting his tongue out to wet his lips before her mouth claimed his once again. Her movements were more urgent, hands raking up the back of his head to hold him firmly in place as her tongue tested the seam of his lips once again, eager to explore his mouth. But this time he was more than happy to oblige and when she crawled onto his lap, his hands pawed at her backside, pressing her to him as he tilted his head to taste more of her. If she hadn't noticed the hardness straining against the front of his shorts before, there was no hiding it now.

His hands had a mind of their own, roaming up and down over the fabric of her top and jeans, tracing every line and every curve, eager to dip beneath the hem of her shirt to feel bare skin against his fingertips. When his thumb grazed the clasp of her bra, she whimpered and her body arched into his. Her breasts pressed against his chest, the friction of her stiff nipples grazing his overly-sensitive skin almost too much to bear. Muffled moans and hushed curses soon filled the room as he continued to knead his fingers into her soft flesh.

Peeta almost lost it when she swiveled her hips, grinding her pelvis into his erection as the humid heat radiating from her crotch caused his cock to twitch painfully. He was so completely and utterly lost in her touch that she took him off guard when, with the full weight of her body, Katniss leaned in and pinned him into the soft covers of the bed. With swift agility, she broke free of the entanglement of limbs and crawled up after him, the majority of her body pressed into his before falling back into their kiss.

She had him downright delirious. His head was dizzy with over a month's worth of pent up sexual frustration and complete bliss from having her on top of him, but his eyes shot open when she snuck a hand between them and tugged urgently at his fly.

He grabbed hold of her shoulders and lifted her up as though she weighed nothing. When their eyes met, he wasn't sure if the look on her face was from pure lust or frustration or perhaps a combination of both.

"What's the matter?" she asked in a breathy voice as her braid dangled like a pendulum in the space between them.

He blinked a few times as he struggled to surface from his lustful haze. "I—I just..."

"What, think I've never seen a cock before?" She arched an eyebrow as the corner of her mouth lifted playfully. "I know what to do with it, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't doubt that you do," he chuckled.

"Then what's the matter?" Her hips thrust forward as she dragged her center up along his rigid length. "Does it bother you that I'm not the pure country girl you thought I was?"

"Not at all." Although the curiosity of who was lucky enough to strip her of the label was starting to grow. But he didn't want to go down that road. Not now at least. He grinned wickedly back at her. "As long as it doesn't bother you that I'm not a pure city boy."

Katniss snorted. "Do those even exist?"

"Ha ha," he said with mock disapproval as he squeezed her thighs, causing her to burst out laughing.

"Seriously though, why did you push me away _this_ time?"

Peeta blew out a steady breath. "I just think we need to slow down, that's all."

"Slow down…why? Don't you want to have sex with me?"

He was stunned speechless by her bluntness. His mouth hung wide open, wishing they could back pedal to just a few moments before. "What? Of course I _want_ to…but, don't you think we're moving a little fast?"

"Seriously?" Katniss sat back on her haunches and crossed her arms over her chest. "Seems to me you don't really want this."

"Hey, I want this," he said firmly, leaning up to lift her chin with his knuckle. "I want _you_, believe me. But don't you think we should, you know, get to know each other a little better first? You don't know anything about me."

"What's there to know?"

He frowned. Is that how she saw this? Is that all she wanted from him? The thought never crossed his mind. For him, diving head first into that level of intimacy wasn't something to take lightly, and it gave him an uneasy feeling that she seemed to think otherwise.

A loud sigh caused him to glance up.

"You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces. Those the kinds of things you're talking about?"

He was stunned speechless yet again as he studied her. "How'd you—" The words died in his throat as he tried to grasp at how she could possibly know those things. Well, she did say she'd been watching him. But still…had she actually listened to what he'd said all this time? Actually paid enough attention to notice his little quirks? Perhaps…but… "Wait, how do you know I like to sleep with the windows open?"

She rolled her eyes before gesturing to the window with her head. "My bedroom faces yours. It's kind of obvious."

"Oh."

"So, that good enough for you?" Pursing her lips, she quirked an eyebrow as if daring him to disagree.

"For now, but I still want you to tell me something about yourself."

"Like what?"

"For starters, how about your favorite color?"

"Green." Peeta nodded, committing the tidbit of information to memory. "So, can we get on with it now?"

"So eager." Peeta's chest rumbled with laughter and shook his head. "I still want to take things slow. There are other things besides sex you know…if you're interested." His knowing grin caused her stern scowl to falter and he could almost see the wheels in her head turning as she mulled over his words.

"Oh?" All the muscles of her body relaxed as she moved off his lap and readjusted herself to sit cross-legged next to him. "Like…what?"

With the frown lines of her face softened, a genuine curiosity was revealed in the way she cocked her head to the side and stared back at him, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. It was a habit of hers he'd picked up on when she was deep in thought or anxious. And a rather distractive one at that.

Propping a leg up onto the bed, Peeta turned to face her, inching his body in just a little closer. In light of her unexpected naiveté, perhaps her sexual experience wasn't as extensive as he'd initially thought. He was by no means an expert, and it wasn't as if he'd regretted any of his own experiences, but it was obvious there was a thing or two he could show her. And at least one of them he damn well intended to tonight.

The combination of her loose v-neck top and the way she sat forward with her elbows propped up on her knees, it provided a more than generous view of the valley between her breasts. He dropped his gaze to where a hint of black was peeking out from beneath the fabric, and then wet his lips before dragging his eyes slowly back up to her face. The muscles of her neck contracted and he followed the bob of her throat as she swallowed thickly.

"Like what?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper as her eyes drifted down to his lips.

"If you'll allow it, I'd like to start by removing this." He reached over to push back the opening of her shirt, revealing her bra strap.

With wide eyes, she glanced over at the patch of bare skin before looking back to him, dipping her head into a shallow nod as she inhaled a shaky breath. Given the green light, he hooked his thumb under the strap and tugged it down. The moment his lips brushed across her skin, her head dropped languidly to the other side and she cursed quietly.

Breathy moans filled his ear as he began to trace a line of slow deliberate kisses along her shoulder, taking his time between each one in hopes of heightening the anticipation of where his lips would land next. She leaned back onto her hands as he skimmed the surface of her skin, back up to her neck, then across her chest, and then eventually dipping between her breasts, going as low as her top would allow him before darting his tongue out to lick at her flesh.

He pulled back just in time to avoid an arm-to-face collision as Katniss grunted in frustration and reached across her body to tug both her shirt and bra off in one swift motion. And just like that, he was staring down at the most perfect pair of tits he'd ever seen. Dark nipples stood erect against her olive skin despite the increasing heat that filled the room. The taut buds were just begging to be ravaged by his eager mouth and when she pushed her chest out in blatant invitation, saliva began to pool in the back of his throat.

The urge to touch her and put his hands and mouth on every last inch of her was suddenly unbearable. He planted his arms on either side of her body, letting the heat from her skin seep into his forearms, and bent forward, dragging the tip of his nose across the stiff peaks as he decided which one to start with first. As he continued to circle her nipples, the warmth from his exhales caused them to harden even more and through clenched teeth, she sucked in a long breath.

"Peeta," she hissed, the harsh desperation in her voice sending a shock straight to his groin. It was the first time his name had ever left her lips. _The first of many_, he thought smugly as he nuzzled into the soft flesh of her right breast.

Her plea was one he couldn't let go unanswered, no matter how much he enjoyed teasing her body. With the flat of his tongue, he licked the tip of the taut bud before taking it between his lips. His eyes shut as the salty taste of her skin filled his mouth, alternating between long, slow sucks and grazing it between his teeth.

Balancing on one hand, he reached over to palm her other breast, plucking and rolling the nipple between his fingers to coax more breathy whimpers of pleasure out of her. A hand migrated into his hair, tugging at the thick strands until a moan of his own vibrated deep in his throat. His arms were burning from holding himself up and he could tell by the slight tremor of her arm she wouldn't be able to stay upright for much longer either. He released her from his mouth and placed a quick kiss to the tip before turning his attention to the other breast.

He greedily chased after it when Katniss's arm finally gave way and she flopped back onto the bed. Before taking the puckered bud back into the confines of his mouth, he took a moment to appreciate the way she looked—limbs sprawled, locks of hair fanned out around her face, and cheeks flushed as half moon grey irises peered up at him through her lashes.

"God, you're unbelievable," he whispered reverently. There was no doubt what the subject of his next sketch would be. From this night alone he'd already had enough images to fill the rest of his book.

They moved as one as he shifted his body over hers, settling himself more comfortably between her legs before picking up where he'd left off. When her back arched off the bed, she grabbed hold of his shoulder and dug her nails into his skin, the feeling of pleasure spiked with pain shooting through him. That was it. Enough with being gentle. He increased the pressure, hollowing his cheeks to suck harder and harder, and in return, the once timid thrusts of her hips against his erection began to increase as well. He was struggling to breathe through his nose, so he regrettably released her, groaning into the spot between her breasts when she bucked up against him once more.

"Stop trying to make me change my mind," he scolded before burying his face into the soft flesh of her belly.

And he might have seriously reconsidered, if it weren't for the lack of protection he had on hand. _No_. They were going to take this one step at a time. He kissed her navel and trailed further down to the waistband of her jeans. The bed shifted beneath them as he steadied himself to unhook the button and tugged down on the zipper.

"I thought you said…" she trailed off as he inched both her pants and underwear down her smooth, tanned legs.

"And I meant it, but like I said, there are other things." He balled up her clothes and tossed them over his shoulder as he stared down at the juncture between her legs. _Fuck_. Why had he insisted they go slow again?

He released a heavy breath before reaching out to spread his hands along her thighs, inching his way up slowly until the pad of his thumb brushed up against the wet warmth of her glistening slit.

Her sudden intake of breath caused him to glace up. "What are you doing?" she hissed, her head popping up off the mattress.

"Katniss, relax." Looking her straight in the eye, he repeated the motion with his thumb, tracing the line with a feather light touch. "Do you trust me?"

Her eyes darkened as he continued to stroke her. "Yes."

"Ok, then I want you to lay back down," he said soothingly, his hands retreating to massage her thighs in hopes of getting her to loosen up. When she finally did, he continued, "Now close your eyes." When he was certain then were shut, he placed a kiss to the inside of her knee and took hold of one of her hands, pulling it down to hover just over her center. "I want you to show me what you like it."

Her head shot off the pillow again, retracting her hand as if she'd just been burned. "What?! You want me to—to…"

"Yes." He kissed the inside of her knee again to coax her to lie back down. "I want you to touch yourself. Just pretend I'm not here."

She snorted and mumbled under her breath, "Easier said than done."

"Can you just go with it, please?" He smiled to himself when she grumbled and her head dropped back to the pillow.

He continued to stroke her thighs, placing light kisses to her skin until with a loud puff of air, she finally lowered a hand between her legs. With the pad of her middle finger, she began to swirl the slick wetness from her folds up to her clit. He watched in rapt fascination when she added her index finger, circling them around and around with a few slow, deliberate strokes before quickening the pace to rapid, almost fluttering motions that soon caused her breathing to turn ragged and tiny moans to fill the air.

It was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. Watching a girl get herself off before his very eyes was a first for him, and his twitchy fingers were tempted to join in. His cock strained madly against his shorts and he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He had to touch her. Taste her. _Fuck_, she was driving him crazy.

He trailed a hand up her thigh and circled her entrance with his thumb, gathering the wetness that seemed to be seeping out of her now. She moaned out loud, spurring him on as he eased a finger into her. _Jesus_. She was hot and wet, her walls snug and tight around his digit. Once in as far as possible, he curled his finger forward in search for that spot he was certain would get a reaction of her.

"Oh my—fuck!" she moaned, her back arching off the bed and sending a wave of heat straight to his balls. _Jackpot_, he thought as he grinned to himself, running his finger across the spongy surface once more. "Right…there…" she panted to the ceiling before flopping back down to the bed.

With a not so subtle nudge of his head, he pushed her hand away and wet his lips before dragging his tongue up through her folds. When he reached the hood of her cleft, he circled her clit before greedily taking the swollen nub into his mouth. He knew he was doing something right when her hips began to rock against his face with each swipe of his tongue and thrust of his finger and soon he wasn't able to decipher neither hide nor hair of the garbled words tumbling out of her mouth.

His jaw grew slack but when she grabbed a fist full of his hair, a new wave of determination washed over him as he savored the tart taste of her on his tongue. With each buck of her hips, he struggled to hold her down and was finally forced to sling an arm across her body to hold her in place. The slick combination of her arousal and his saliva was more than he'd bargained but even that didn't stop him from devouring her center. He was going to make her say his name again if it killed him.

"Holy fuck—Peeta!"

All the muscles of her body coiled before she let go, shuddering in spasms as a strained whimper flooded his ears. Her hand fell limp from his head, but he kept his lips pressed to her clit until he finally had to come up for air. He released her and reached his hands across the sheets in search of hers. Once found, he entwined their fingers and squeezed gently, resting his sweaty forehead against the inside of her thigh as he caught his breath.

"You still alive?" he said with a chuckle before pressing a kiss to her flushed skin.

Katniss was still panting, her heavy breaths doing amazing things to her breasts as her chest heaved. Her fingers eventually clenched his as a sign that she was indeed, still alive.

"No one has ever…" She trailed off with a tranquil sigh. "I mean, I never thought…I can't believe how amazing…"

Peeta laughed quietly. "Like I said, anything you want, Katniss, all you have to do is ask and it's yours."

He took a moment to readjust himself; the tent in his shorts beyond obvious at this point. Taking the sheets, he gently cleaned her up before crawling up the bed to lie down next to her. Resting on his side with one hand under his head and the other on her stomach, he took the opportunity to memorize every inch of her naked body, from the hollow of her throat to the swell of her hips.

She eventually turned to face him and with her finger traced a line down his chest, stopping just above the obvious bulge, a timid smile on her lips. "No one's ever done that to me before. Thank you." Her petite hand cupped him but he reached down and pulled it back up to his lips.

"You're welcome." He placed a gentle kiss to her palm. "And don't worry about me, tonight was about you." Something flashed in her eyes, doubt maybe, or shock. But he was serious. She didn't owe him anything.

"I'd better go," she finally whispered, her warm breath against his skin causing a shiver to run though him. He tightened his grip on her for just a moment before releasing her.

He watched her sit up, back to him as she pulled her shirt over her head. He couldn't stop himself from trailing his fingertips down her spine. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, a big grin lighting up her face as she stood.

"You sure I can't help take care of that?" She reached out as if to stroke his erection but he just brushed her hand away and smiled.

"Nah, don't worry about it."

"Suit yourself." After redressing, she turned to leave, but at the last second, she turned back around and leaned over, capturing his lips in a hard kiss. "That's to remember me by."

Peeta chuckled. "Oh, I don't think I'll be forgetting about this anytime soon." Just as she was about to pull away, he reached up and pulled her back in for a slow and much more gentle kiss. "Good night, Katniss."

"Night," she replied, locking eyes with him for a second longer before turning and tip toeing across the room, disappearing through the darkened doorway without a sound. He listened for the creak in the steps as she descended, but heard nothing. _Damn she was quiet_. He stared up at the ceiling, smiling blissfully to himself and heart still hammering away beneath his chest over how the night had taken a turn for the unexpected.

He turned over and sunk his face into his pillow. The smell of orange blossom still clung to the fabric and he inhaled deeply. The dull throb of his cock was a pleasant reminder that what had just happened had been real. This time as he closed his eyes and reached down to quell the ache between his legs; he had the feel of her lips against his to accompany the now explicit collection of images that were still fresh in his mind as he stroked himself to completion.

Thanks to Katniss, that night he slept well.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well? That's all I'm gonna say :P Hope you enjoyed it!

Thank you to _sunfishdunes_ for taking the time to beta this for me, she's a busy lady!

Follow me on tumblr: Pookieh


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